


where the machines (and our hearts) run in double time

by NoSleepUntilVacation



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Dialogue, Canon-Typical Violence, Danger, Experimentation, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Medical Experimentation, No Romance, Novelization, Platonic Relationships, Regret, Selectively Mute Frisk (Undertale), Suspense, True Lab (Undertale), Unethical Experimentation, What-If, not the whole game, of one specific segment of the game though, protective mettaton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2019-12-26 16:04:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18285641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoSleepUntilVacation/pseuds/NoSleepUntilVacation
Summary: As Frisk reread Alphys' note for the fifth time, they wondered just what she could have done that was so disquieting that she couldn't directly confess to everyone.But before they could board the elevator and discover for themselves, they heard a voice."Darling! Wait!"...(The one where Mettaton decides to accompany Frisk through the True Lab.)





	1. memoryhead, key of red

**Author's Note:**

> This idea wouldn't leave me alone, so I decided to write it.
> 
> Although the tags say "canon divergence", this fic is still written as if it could pass for canon. As such, there are no non-canon pairings, and things end up pretty much the same way as in canon - after the events of this fic, Frisk still goes on to the king's castle, and everything with Asriel happens in pretty much the same way. (The one possible difference is that Mettaton may have more of an appearance than just egging on Alphys and Undyne to kiss - maybe he cheers Frisk on with the other monsters, or maybe he's even a lost soul?)
> 
> I imagine the combat in this version of events happening in a similar style to the combat in Deltarune, due to the multiple party members - Mettaton and Frisk could probably have some tandem acts, and Mettaton may have a special maneuver where he taunts the enemy to attack him instead of Frisk, or where he uses a disco ball to reduce their accuracy (maybe by shrinking the bullet size or making their movements more erratic).
> 
> But mostly, I'm just writing this to see if I can. My arms are still in the process of recovering after the hospital stuff I went through, but one of the best ways to help them recover is to use them, so there we go.

_"...You all at least deserve to know what I did."_

Frisk studied the otherwise-unassuming piece of paper, not entirely sure of what to make of the words that had been shakily written on it. They already knew from the experiences in Hotland that Alphys was far from a saint, but had she done something even worse? And if so, what could she have done? Did she kill someone, or cause some other form of irreversible damage to them, or commit treason of some sort?

As Frisk reread Alphys' note for the fifth time, they wondered just what she could have done that was so disquieting that she couldn't directly confess to everyone. The only way they would be able to know for sure would be if they did as Alphys told them and boarded the elevator. If nothing else, she would probably be waiting down there; the least they could do was make sure she was okay. Undyne would probably be worried sick, especially considering what happened between them not too long ago.

Lowering the note, Frisk stared at the elevator that loomed before them. It was time for them to steel their courage and search for their new friend.

They took one step forward.

"Darling! Wait!"

Frisk gasped, not expecting to hear that familiar mechanical baritone followed by a series of rapidly-approaching footsteps. They looked and saw the lithe form of Mettaton EX rapidly descend the stairs and run up to them; unlike the playful expressions he made in his last show, his face was now littered with nothing but concern.

Mettaton stopped in front of them; despite Frisk having taken off his limbs with their magic during their last encounter, he now looked good as new. He took a couple of deep breaths before looking right at them. "Have you seen Alphys anywhere?"

In response, Frisk simply held up the note.

Mettaton's knees shook slightly as his face fell. "Please tell me she didn't..." He took the note and read through it in silence; Frisk could hear him take some slow, deep breaths as he did so, and they saw his soul began to pulse even more in its casing.

Finally, with one more deep breath, he lowered the note and met Frisk eye-to-eye. "Were you about to go through that door just now, sweetheart?"

Frisk nodded.

"I'm coming with you." As he folded up the note, he continued speaking. "Alphys and I... we haven't been on the best terms as of late, but she really is important to me. She's helped me so much when I needed it..." He pocketed the note. "And I think I'm long overdue for returning the favor, if that's all right with you."

The look on his face grew bittersweet. "Besides... I feel like I owe you for trying to kill you on my show."

Being as forgiving as they were, Frisk wasn't about to hold it against Mettaton, and the thought of him traveling alongside them seemed fair; to their understanding, he and Alphys were really close friends, or at least they used to be close.

That said, they did have one concern. While they hadn't been the most talkative person throughout their adventures underground, they still spoke from time to time, and this was one of those times.

"But... what about your battery?"

Mettaton blinked. "Huh?" Once the question registered, he simply smiled. "Oh, don't worry about my battery, sweetheart. Before Alphys left, she was kind enough to upgrade it for me; now I can hold this form for a much longer period of time." He let out a small laugh. "And this time, I'll try harder to conserve it; I won't try to break my record for how many poses per second I can do unless I have to."

Giggling, he leaned down to whisper to Frisk. "Even if posing dramatically is fun."

Frisk let out a giggle of their own, finding it hard to argue with that. They'd been a little nervous on Mettaton's show at first, but once they'd gotten in the zone, they were quite nimble and confident for a rather reserved ten-year-old who was far from being the most athletic child in their class.

After a little more laughter, Mettaton looked at the elevator. "Well, let's not waste any more time, darling. Alphys needs us."

With a nod, Frisk walked alongside Mettaton into the elevator. They pressed the button for the only other floor available, watched the doors glide closed, and waited to descend. The elevator slowly began to move...

...

...and then, as a warning alarm began to blare, the pace picked up considerably.

Frisk and Mettaton gasped and looked at each other before bracing for impact and hoping for the best.

...

**_Crash._ **

* * *

Frisk looked up as the doors slid open. Whatever light was there was quite dim - but it was definitely there. Aside from feeling a little rattled, they weren't any worse for wear, but what about...?

They caught sight of Mettaton, slumped against the elevator wall. Mercifully, all four of his limbs still appeared to be securely attached, and despite his eyes being closed, his systems still hummed as normal. Frisk walked up to him and grabbed him by the arm, nudging him a few times.

"Ugh..." Mettaton clutched his forehead, slightly opening his eyes. "Burgerpants, how many times do I have to tell you? We don't sell burritos here..."

If Frisk hadn't already known that Mettaton wasn't an AI, they would have been a lot more concerned. But a combination of his unpredictable behavior and a very suspicious reaction to a mysterious key Frisk had bought from two fans of his had led to them discovering things that confirmed that he was indeed his own person, and that his behavior at this moment was not some kind of glitch. So, Frisk just leaned in closer and snapped their fingers a few times.

"Huh?" Like that, Mettaton was fully alert; he looked around. "Oh... you're not Burgerpants. Sorry, beautiful; I don't know what came over me." He stood up and looked outside; the elevator doors were taking suspiciously long to close. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

Frisk looked back at the elevator buttons; they didn't need to press any of them to know that the elevator had lost power. The lack of light was enough to make it clear to them, as were the warning alarms earlier.

Thus, with nowhere else to go, Frisk and Mettaton left the elevator.

They found themselves in a rather narrow hallway; as they turned the corner and proceeded, something curious caught their attention. Strange monitors of some sort rested on the wall, and as they approached the first of these monitors, it seemed to turn on all by itself. Text appeared on the screen, and as Frisk and Mettaton looked at it, Mettaton read it out loud.

_"This is it... Time to do what the King has asked me to do."_

He read the rest of the entry; it was rather short, and simply discussed harnessing soul power to free the monsters. As they moved on to the next monitor and its accompanying entry, Frisk couldn't help noticing a slight quaver in Mettaton's voice as he read the words " _this power cannot be recreated artificially_ ". Knowing what was probably on his mind (and knowing that he was probably hoping Frisk didn't know), Frisk decided not to say anything.

Mettaton seemed to have calmed down by the time he'd started reading the third entry, though; it discussed the nature of monster souls, and how the vast majority of them were unable to persist after death. He looked at Frisk with a nod. "You see, darling, Boss Monsters are the only monsters whose souls can persist at all after death. But as far as we know, there are very few of them still around. Asgore is one of them... as was his former queen. She left after he made his anti-human decree... I wonder whatever happened to her."

Frisk wasn't sure if it was a good idea to tell Mettaton what they knew; before they could decide, though, he moved on to the next entry.

"Entry number... five? What happened to number four?" Regardless, he cleared his throat and read it out loud as before; this one discussed a special power that Alphys had managed to extract from the human souls.

_"Let's call this power... 'Determination'."_

Frisk gasped; for some reason, that word had been entering their thoughts a lot since they fell underground, especially whenever they reached a save point. From playing around in a pile of leaves to imagining mice being able to reach faraway cheese, even the smallest things reminded them of that word - and they weren't even sure why.

"Determination..." they whispered.

This entry had been the last one in the hallway; as he and Frisk turned the corner to enter the lab proper, Mettaton found it more and more difficult to stop his soul from doing flips in its casing.

_Alphys, darling... what have you been hiding from the world?_

The hallway soon emptied into a room with a few points of interest; the first thing to catch Frisk's eye was a save point, which they immediately used. They wondered if Mettaton could also see save points, but the man himself seemed more intrigued by what appeared to be some kind of door. Attached to this door were four lights, each a different color, and none showing any hints of light; a sign next to it labeled it the power room.

"Hmm..." Mettaton studied the door for a bit, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it at the moment. As he turned around, he caught sight of the nearby vending machine; unlike the door, the lights on this one showed that it was in working order, complete with food to dispense. The food in question was nothing but bags of potato chips, though; as if that wasn't enough, they were all the same flavor.

When Frisk heard Mettaton began to snicker, they turned around. "Huh?"

Mettaton briefly looked back at them as they walked up to him. "These are all her favorite flavor; I'm not surprised." He slipped a twenty-five gold piece into the machine and sent a bag down before handing it to Frisk. "Here you go, darling - a bag of popato chisps."

Quickly realizing what he'd said, he spluttered a bit. "Er, I mean potato chips. I don't know why I said 'popato chisps'... I guess that's one for my personal blooper reel, huh?"

Both he and Frisk shared a brief laugh, and Frisk smiled at him. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome, beautiful."

After Mettaton grabbed a second bag for himself, he and Frisk headed down the hallway to the left. This hallway, while shorter than the previous one, contained one monitor; just like with the four entries in the first hallway, Mettaton read the text on the screen out loud.

_"ASGORE asked everyone outside the city for monsters that had 'fallen down'. Their bodies came in today."_

The entry further discussed injecting their bodies with the mysterious "determination" substance; Frisk noticed that, just like with the second journal entry, Mettaton's voice grew a bit shaky as he continued to read. They honestly didn't blame him, for now they were beginning to understand just why Alphys couldn't directly confess. She had experimented on people's family members; given how close to death the monsters had been, it could have also been seen as disrespecting the dead.

But... what happened to those monsters?

After finishing the entry, Mettaton stood there for a moment, taking a couple of deep breaths. Frisk was about to ask if he was okay, but when he looked back at them and simply said "Let's go, sweetheart", they decided not to argue.

The two soon entered a room with operating tables, some sinks at the other end of the room, another passageway, and another monitor. When Mettaton went to read the entry, the first thing he noticed was that it skipped all the way to the ninth entry, even though the previous entry had been the sixth one. The second thing was that, for some reason, most of the text was in all lowercase letters, forgoing the proper capitalization of the previous entries.

_"things aren't going well."_

According to this entry, Alphys couldn't get the monster souls she needed because the monsters' bodies hadn't turned to dust. For this reason, she couldn't return them to their family members, either - and the families wanted to know what was going on.

"Did she...?" Mettaton muttered to himself before shaking his head. "Never mind. Let's see if we can find any clues in here, shall we, darling?"

With that, they went to inspect the room; since the operating tables held nothing of interest and the sinks didn't look like anything but ordinary sinks, the two decided to head into the small adjoining room. In here, they saw only two things of interest: a strange device in the wall, and a faded note on the ground.

Mettaton walked up to the device; the centerpiece was a strange red slot. "A red slot... does this have anything to do with the red light I saw on the door earlier?" When he looked over at Frisk and saw them crouched down near the note, he began to approach them. "What did you find, sweetheart?"

Frisk tilted their head and read aloud. "'Drain'... 'dropped it'?"

"Let me see." Mettaton leaned down to read the note; the paper had deteriorated so much, and the writing had become so smudged, that the words Frisk had read were indeed the only legible words on the note. "Hmm..."

He led Frisk back into the other room and looked at the sinks. "These drains, perhaps?" With a frown, he set a hand on Frisk's shoulder. "Unfortunately, you're going to have to be the one to check, since my body isn't fully waterproof yet. I'll still do what I can to help, though."

Frisk nodded and went to inspect the sinks. Looking in the basins of each of them didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary; even when Frisk opened the cabinets underneath, they didn't see anything but pipes. Out of desperation, they decided to experiment with the faucets; perhaps something would fall out of the tap? The faucet on the right just supplied regular water, though, as did the middle faucet.

After shutting them off, Frisk turned on the leftmost faucet, expecting more of the same...

...but instead of water, a strange white goop began to slowly emerge from the tap.

"What. Is. _That?_ "

Frisk had no idea how to answer Mettaton's question, especially because their guess was as good as his.

Instead of going down the drain, the gooey substance filled up the basin to the point where it should have overflowed; when it didn't spill onto the floor, it became clear that this was no ordinary liquid. Frisk slowly backed away, watching as the goo slowly began to take on facial features, and hearing muffled static noises coming from the sink.

Neither Frisk nor Mettaton had any idea of what to make of this; all they could do was stand side-by-side and watch as the goo's facial features became more pronounced, with the static growing louder and clearer every second...

...and then, it levitated out of the sink, let out a noise that sounded like a garbled transmission of someone's laughter, and split into three separate beings before descending upon the unwitting intruders, whose respective souls promptly became visible.

Frisk and Mettaton gasped at the sight of the creatures that now surrounded them; each one resembled something halfway between a skull and a brain, and while each one had a face, the components were in odd places - and most were barely recognizable. (At least three orifices on their faces could have been interpreted as a mouth - and where were their noses?) The smell of battery acid began to cut through the air, which did nothing to soothe Frisk's quickening pulse. With most of the monsters they'd met, there was at least some obvious hint as to what would placate them; these monsters, however, were completely unlike any monsters Frisk had seen before.

When Frisk looked at Mettaton - who seemed to be trying harder than ever to keep calm with his deep breaths - he shook his head. "I don't know, sweetheart. I've never seen monsters like these in my life - and given that I'm a celebrity, that's saying something!"

Feeling at the end of their rope, Frisk decided to Check one of these monsters. It had helped them in the past...

...but unfortunately, even Checking didn't help in this moment. It didn't even tell Frisk what these monsters were called.

The three monsters let out discordant, inorganic screeches before suddenly fading from view. Small, strange orbs of light took their places, looking almost like the lights at a stadium - except stadium lights didn't suddenly balloon into creepy smiling faces like these did. Both Frisk and Mettaton yelped, nearly stumbling over themselves as they tried to get out of the way; Frisk winced as a face caught them off-guard, and they grabbed Mettaton's hand and pulled him out of the way just as another face was about to give him the same treatment.

Before long, the two started looking around frantically for more orbs, only for the three original monsters to reappear, with no more orbs or smiling faces in sight.

Mettaton folded his arms and glared at them; even if there had been smiling faces, his would not have been one of them. "Oh my! Such language to use in front of a child!"

Frisk, on the other hand, noticed their phone vibrating in their pocket, and pulled it out in record time. Was it Alphys, trying to tell them where she was? Or was it one of their other friends, offering to come over and help out?

_Incoming call from: MEMORYHEAD_

...Memoryhead? Who or what was Memoryhead? Was it one of those creatures?

"I think you'd better answer it, darling! We may not have a choice at this point!"

Once again deciding not to argue with Mettaton, Frisk took the call. In that moment, after a couple small bursts of static, three voices came through the speaker in perfect English, all speaking in unison:

**"Come join the fun."**

Lightly shuddering, Frisk looked at Mettaton, who shook his head.

"Don't do it, darling. If you're bored, you can ask me to come up with an activity. I'm a celebrity - I have at least a million of them!"

He picked his brain for a moment before a thought seemed to come to him; Frisk watched as he walked in front of them before standing in the middle of the monsters.

"In fact... do any of you beauties know how to dance?"

With that, he began busting out some of the dance moves he'd previously displayed in the premiere of his EX form - though at a relatively slower pace than what Frisk knew he could reach.

At first, Frisk had no idea of what to make of this - being surrounded by eldritch creatures in the midst of a gloomy laboratory didn't seem like ideal conditions for a dance party at all. However, when the monsters disappeared and began their second volley of face attacks, Frisk looked around and prepared to dodge...

...except none of the orbs came anywhere close to them.

In that moment, Frisk realized the reasoning behind Mettaton's sudden bout of disco fever; his dance moves were meant to goad the monsters into attacking him - and only him.

Fortunately, having been through one volley of these attacks, Mettaton seemed to know what to expect this time. Not only did he dodge the faces, he put some flair into dodging - literally dancing out of the way of several of the attacks, performing leaps and pirouettes, and even finishing with a cartwheel back over to Frisk's side before letting out triumphant laughter.

"Ohhh yesss! I bet you wish you had moves like those, darlings!"

When the monsters reappeared, however, they didn't look envious or impressed. In fact, they didn't seem any more amused than before.

Mettaton sighed. "Everybody's a critic."

Several pairs of eyes trained themselves expectantly towards Frisk, but they had other plans. They took a step backwards towards Mettaton and shook their head, all while looking one of the monsters in one of its many eyes.

Just like that, the voices came back through their cell phone, but this time, they each said different things:

**"Oh well."**

**"Lorem ipsum docet--"**

**"It's a real get-together."**

They disappeared for a third round of attacks just like the first and second. Frisk, now with a better understanding of the way these attacks worked, sidestepped many of them, though winced as they felt one suddenly graze them. Mettaton, meanwhile, took his dodging a little more seriously this time; dancing was fun, but he couldn't do it forever.

Upon the monsters' reappearance, Frisk noticed a bored look in their eyes; by all indications, they'd realized that trying to recruit Frisk and Mettaton was a fool's errand. Frisk looked one of them in the eye and waved goodbye, and without a word, the monsters disappeared one final time.

Just a second later, Frisk's phone made a clicking noise, signaling the end of the call.

Frisk remembered the message their phone had displayed earlier. "Memoryhead...?" That had to have been what those monsters were called; what were they, though?

Behind them, Mettaton took deep breaths. "Sweetheart... I have no idea what just happened."

"Me neither." Out of either curiosity or foolishness, Frisk approached the strange sink once more - only for a red sparkle to catch their eye. "Huh?"

Heels clacked against the floor more quickly than ever. "What is it?" When Mettaton rejoined Frisk's side, though, instead of finding another monster in the sink, he found... "A red key of some sort?"

"This wasn't here before..." Regardless, Frisk shrugged and took it, affixing it to their keychain (all the while grateful for not having to remove a certain other key, since it didn't even fit on there in the first place).

Frisk and Mettaton looked at each other and nodded in silent agreement before heading back into the small room from before. As if on autopilot, Frisk inserted the red key into the slot; not only did it fit like a glove, but the slot lit up. Aside from that, nothing in the room changed; everything else remained as gloomy and dimly lit as before.

"Come on, darling. Let's go back." As Mettaton turned on his heel and started on his way out, he muttered to himself, "I wonder if...?"

The two backtracked through the rooms, past the operating tables and through the hallway, until they found themselves re-entering the room with the vending machine. For Frisk, priority number one was saving a second time - especially since the magic in the process was able to patch up the small injuries from the Memoryhead encounter. Right after they'd finished, they heard Mettaton's voice.

"I was right!"

"Huh?" Frisk turned around, their mind starting to flood with thoughts about how to explain saving - only to find Mettaton indicating the door. While all four lights had previously been completely lifeless, the red light alone now glowed with a renewed fire.

"This door apparently leads to the power room. So maybe, if we find the rest of the keys, we'll be able to reactivate the elevators and leave." Mettaton's smile twitched a bit. "And hopefully, we'll find Alphys along the way - preferably sooner rather than later."

With a nod, Frisk looked around the room; aside from a faded note saying something about the elevators, they found a second passageway with a door at the end. They waved to Mettaton and pointed down the hall. "This way!"

Mettaton was quick to follow as Frisk walked down the hall. When the automatic door slid open, they proceeded together with a fire in their hearts.

No matter what they encountered in this lab, no matter what they learned, they _were_ going to find Alphys - for she was a friend, and she needed them.


	2. red-green-yellow-yellow

Frisk and Mettaton proceeded down the new hallway, feeling it was nothing special - but of course, the monitors hanging on the wall begged to differ. As Mettaton went up to the first one, he briefly gave it an odd look.

"This one is entry number twelve." He turned towards Frisk. "It seems a lot of these entries are out of order, sweetheart. Hopefully, we may find the rest of them as we go on." That said, as he began to read this entry, part of him wondered if _hopefully_ was the right word, considering the nature of the previous entries.

_"nothing is happening. i don't know what to do."_

Alphys' solution to the lack of progress, according to this entry, ended up being to continue injecting determination into everything. Once Mettaton finished reading, he looked at a rather perturbed Frisk with an equally-uneased glance.

"Somehow, I get the feeling that that was a horrible, horrible mistake..."

With a light shudder, Frisk nodded.

The second (and last) monitor in the hallway contained what was easily the shortest entry yet - a grand total of one sentence long. But given the contents of that one sentence, the lack of length was no surprise.

_"one of the bodies opened its eyes."_

Once it registered, Mettaton gasped and whispered "Oh, my..." to himself as his spine began to tremble. "That's not supposed to be possible..."

Frisk didn't need an explanation to know that this was a big deal; the fact that Mettaton, the resident master of snark and glamour, currently sported a wide eye and a dropped jaw was enough to prove to them that events like this did not typically happen. And yet, they received an explanation anyway when Mettaton turned back around.

"Darling, I'm not sure how much you know about monsters as a whole, but... we're partially made of hope. Any monster who loses enough hope is at risk of falling down. It's like a coma, except..." He breathed deeply, as if discussing something that hit close to home. "There's no chance of waking up from falling down. If a monster falls down, it's only a matter of time before... well, let's just say there's a reason Alphys called them 'bodies'."

A second shudder crept down Frisk's spine as the implications caught up with them. If determination could do that to a monster... was it possible for _human_ souls to have too much determination? And if so, had Frisk just been lucky this whole time - and when would their luck run out?

For a moment, all seemed well as the two entered the next room; Frisk mustered the fortitude to look inside the nearby dog food bowl, but found nothing but tiny food remnants. Everything from the past couple of minutes began to creep up on Frisk's mind, though, and they didn't even realize that they were staring off into space until a familiar gloved hand suddenly floated into their line of sight.

"Yoohoo! Darling! Still awake?"

Frisk gasped and turned towards Mettaton; it was only now that they noticed the beds nearby, and they felt themselves slump a little. "I... I need to sit down, I think."

Mettaton carefully led them to the nearest bed; unlike the other beds, the covers on this one were already down. "Take as long as you need to, gorgeous. In the meantime, I'll see if I can find something in here."

"Thanks." Frisk climbed up onto the mattress and lay down before closing their eyes, listening to the clacking of Mettaton's heels as they echoed through the room.

They couldn't help but ponder Mettaton's current attitude throughout this lab adventure; although he clearly believed in Frisk's strength now, he still seemed to take on a protective, even nurturing attitude towards them, as if anything in this lab could send them towards a breaking point at any moment. Something within bit back the urge to dryly laugh; of course, Mettaton would probably never find out about what Flowey had recently put them through. Not surprising, considering the event technically never even happened anymore; only Frisk, Flowey, and presumably the human souls could remember Frisk even making it to New Home, let alone all that happened afterward. Asgore was still alive - the Underground's collective lack of panic proved it - and since no one said anything about Frisk having met him, those events had presumably been banished to some obscure pocket of space and time, if not wiped completely.

Frisk didn't even know if Mettaton would believe them if they tried to tell him about saving and resetting. Did Mettaton even believe in time travel? Sure, being such a huge fan of human culture, he'd probably seen at least one movie or TV show that touched on the concept, but there was a difference between knowing about a concept and--

A soft, warm sensation interrupted Frisk's train of thought; they let out a quiet "Hmm?" as they felt a blanket cover them. Whoever - or whatever - did this didn't say anything, but they did pat Frisk on the head.

_But... Mettaton's all the way over there... I can hear him..._ Could Mettaton even reach halfway across the room with his robotic arms? Or maybe he sent over one of those heart-throwing miniature drones of himself to do it?

Frisk eventually decided that trying to answer this question would be more trouble than it was worth, and tried to relax as best as they could given the circumstances. Just some slow, deep breaths, daydreaming of some good memories: butterscotch-cinnamon pie, puzzles in Snowdin, lying on the floor with Napstablook, calling friends throughout Hotland...

(Maybe, when this was over, Frisk could gather everyone together and they could all watch a movie or something? As long as someone other than Undyne was in charge of the popcorn...)

Several quiet minutes passed by before those heels returned to Frisk's bedside, their owner speaking up once more. "Did that help at all, sweetheart?"

"Kind of." As Frisk sat up, though, they knew that they couldn't truly relax until two things happened: they needed to find a way out, and they needed to find Alphys. This was for Mettaton's sake, for Undyne's sake - and by all indications, for Alphys' own sake as well.

"I found another journal entry, as well as this key - it was in one of the beds." Mettaton handed Frisk a key that greatly resembled the red one they'd found, except this one was yellow and shaped slightly differently. "If you see a yellow slot around here, let me know."

Frisk nodded and affixed the key to their keychain before following Mettaton to the monitor that displayed the fourteenth lab entry; according to this one, the monsters who had fallen down had all woken up and were acting like nothing had happened.

_But... where'd they go?_ Had they turned into those Memoryhead monsters? Frisk couldn't think of another explanation; they sure hadn't seen any monster dust down here, nor any monsters besides Mettaton and the Memoryheads.

Then again, this lab seemed pretty big... was something yet to come?

Frisk watched Mettaton head through the nearby doorway, and after a quick save, they caught up with him, just in time to hear a new journal entry.

"Entry number fifteen... it's a bit long." Mettaton cleared his throat. " _Seems like this research was a dead end... but at least we got a happy ending out of it...?_ " The entry then discussed returning the human souls to Asgore, as well as returning a previously-unmentioned "vessel" to his garden. Alphys had also told the families that their relatives were alive, and that " _I'll send everyone back tomorrow._ "

Mettaton looked at Frisk. "And she even put a little smiley face at the end, too."

Even as the two giggled over it, the looks in their eyes were bittersweet. They both knew there had to be some kind of catch; so far, things just didn't add up.

And when they saw the next journal entry, it ended up proving them right - all with a single tiny word, repeated several times.

" _no No NO NO NO NO NO_ "

In that moment, two spines trembled. That one little word said so much - and yet so little. One thing was for sure, though: something very, very unfortunate happened within these walls.

Nevertheless, Frisk still felt that spark of determination in their heart. They'd been through so many things during their stay underground, and if they could help it, they would not let this break them. Despite everything Alphys and Mettaton had done to them in Hotland, Frisk didn't want either of them to suffer; revenge wouldn't change the past. Besides, being trapped in this lab forever was not their idea of fun.

As such, when they came across another doorway, they were quick to head through it. The sight that greeted them was bizarre, to say the least; this narrow room contained nothing but a purple shower curtain at the end. Even weirder, Frisk could clearly see the silhouette of... _something_ swaying behind the curtain. Some kind of tentacle?

Meanwhile, as Mettaton caught sight of the strange entity, he noticed that Frisk had already started tiptoeing towards the curtain - and just like that, he felt a strange combination of admiration and concern. _Wow... there really is no stopping you, is there, sweetheart?_ He decided to follow behind Frisk, trying his hardest to muffle the sound of his heels against the tile.

"I'm right behind you, darling," he whispered.

"Thanks."

The more the two approached the curtain, the faster the tentacle wagged, and Mettaton couldn't hold back the pounding in his soul. This reminded him far too much of a human movie he once saw, in which someone was brutally attacked and killed in the shower - except in this case, the occupant of the shower was more likely to be the threat. By now, Mettaton had no desire to actually kill anyone, but if this creature did anything to hurt the child...!

Unsurprisingly, once the curtain was within reach, Mettaton's systems ran on high alert. The tentacle nearly thrashed from side to side like an overactive windshield wiper, and he prepared himself for any possibility as Frisk gripped the curtain.

Frisk took a deep breath, muttered "one, two, three", and threw the curtain open.

" _Nobody move!_ "

Mettaton slipped into a fighting stance as he screamed his threat, ready to prime a bomb or a drone or some electric magic or...

...or...

...or to look like a total fool for yelling at an empty showertub.

"Huh...?" Frisk looked all around the tub, but not only did they see no tentacle monster, they didn't see any traces of anyone having been in there. No slime, no ectoplasm, no scales or feathers or strands of fur... not even any water. They did, however, find a green key not unlike the red and yellow ones, and it soon found a new home on their keyring.

The sound of laughter cut through the air, and Frisk turned back to see Mettaton leaning against the wall, unable to stop his emotions from spilling out. He just laughed and laughed, like a dam had burst somewhere deep down, a hand on his forehead all the while. It took a little while for him to calm down, but when the urge to laugh finally burned itself out, he shook his head and gave Frisk a weird smile.

"Sweetheart, did you know today is National Blooper Reel Day?"

Frisk blinked. "No...?"

"Me neither." Mettaton looked back at the doorway. "Anyway, let's get out of here."

As the two returned to the previous hallway, Frisk frowned and looked up at Mettaton. "Hey... are you okay?"

"Of course, darling!" Somehow, Mettaton found it in himself to let out a nervous chuckle. "This just isn't how I was expecting to spend my afternoon. But we're going to make it through this together, because we're two of the brightest stars underground!" He leaned down a little. "And you _are_ a bright star, by the way. Anyone who helps my ratings get _that_ high definitely deserves to call themselves a star."

Frisk laughed bashfully; they hadn't been planning on spending their afternoon on a killer robot's many TV shows or walking through a secret laboratory, either. Life could be strange that way. At least the killer robot was on their side now.

In the next room, Frisk's blood chilled at the sight of what appeared to be a huge animal skull with tubing attached to it. They weren't afraid of bones - the fact that two of their first friends underground were skeleton monsters was proof of that - but seeing that specific type of skull... Frisk could only think of the mouth opening, followed by searing heat, and the sound of relentless laughter from the face on the screen above.

At least Flowey had promised to be nice this time around... right?

"Oh...? What's this?" Mettaton headed further into the room - but instead of paying attention to the skull, he'd noticed something glowing on the ground.

When Frisk went up to him, they gasped when they saw what he had been looking at: a four-pointed star, large enough to block the narrow pathway between the wall and the skull. So, apparently, he could see save points... but then why hadn't he said anything about the ones in the other rooms?

Mettaton gave them a perplexed look. "It's... some kind of star?"

"I see those from time to time." Not sure how to explain saves and resets to Mettaton, Frisk quickly thought of a more plausible explanation. "They're some kind of magic thing, and they heal me when I touch them. I'll show you."

They set a hand on the star, and felt that familiar burst of energy...

...but unlike every other time they'd done this, the whiff of sweet lemons began to fill the air.

If this had been the only weird thing to happen at this save point, Frisk wouldn't have been too worried - they liked lemonade as much as the next person. But as the save point began to twist and reshape itself, they blinked and stepped back. "Uh... that's not supposed to happen."

Several indistinguishable voices muttered incomprehensible syllables, and as the save point sprung to life, Mettaton pulled Frisk back, just as their souls came to the forefront once more. "Watch out!"

Frisk nearly stumbled over their own feet, and when they looked up, they found themselves face-to-face with what appeared to be a very toothy, eyeless slug with beefy arms. The slug suddenly grew eyes on top of its head and roared at the duo.

"Okay, okay!" Frisk once more stepped back and looked around, in search of any kind of hint; given that their phone hadn't gone off yet, they decided to leave it in their pocket. The more they looked at the creature's arms, the more they thought of Aaron from Waterfall, and an idea soon came to them. It was a bit of a stretch, but it was worth a shot.

The creature glared back and forth between the two unfamiliar visitors, wondering which one was more of an immediate threat. But when the shorter one suddenly stepped forward and flexed one of their arms, the creature's eyes widened and their own arms trembled a bit. They'd felt this before... a distant memory... but it remained just out of their reach.

As Frisk lowered their arm, the creature spoke; despite them having only one visible mouth, their voice sounded like an entire chorus speaking in unison.

**"Welcome to my special hell."**

When the creature suddenly disappeared into the ground, Frisk and Mettaton wondered if that was the end of that-

-only for the creature to emerge next to Mettaton and lunge towards him, trying to bite him.

"What-? Hey! Watch it!" Mettaton tried to dodge, sidestepping and jumping when possible, but the creature showed no intention of backing down. In desperation, Mettaton pulled out one of his bombs and threw it, but right before it could hit the creature, they sank back into the floor, leaving the bomb to bounce on the tile a couple of times before exploding harmlessly.

The creature soon reemerged in their previous spot; as they growled at the two, the distinct melody of pulsating flesh resonated through the room.

"Listen, _darling._ " Mettaton stepped forward, in the mood to do some growling of his own. "Just because my fans consider me eye candy doesn't mean you can literally try to eat me!"

For some reason, upon hearing the word "darling", the creature trembled again, and a brief twinge of sadness shone in their eyes. Why, just why, did this tall stranger feel so... hauntingly familiar?

Frisk, meanwhile, studied the creature intently. The combination of the eerie melodies and the lemon scent (among other things) made it difficult to get a reading on this monster, but Frisk couldn't help noticing that their body resembled that of Shyren's talent agent. Remembering each of the sold-out concerts they'd performed with Shyren - where the crowds cheered, the socks flew, and the toilet-paper tickets exchanged hands in record time - Frisk smiled, and they soon began to hum one of Shyren's favorite songs.

_Si re si re si mi si mi..._

The shivers running down the creature's spine grew more violent. They knew that song from _somewhere_ \- but where? Why were memories of singing suddenly popping up into their head like soap bubbles? Having little sing-alongs with three people... near some kind of farm? What did it all mean?

As their eyes frantically darted between the tall stranger - whose face looked almost as astonished as their own - and the shorter one - who just kept humming and humming - the confusion finally got to them. They roared a second time, their teeth flying out of their mouth and surrounding the duo, before firing magic orbs from their eyes.

Frisk carefully moved out of the way of the orbs, being careful not to stumble into any of the teeth, and occasionally glancing at Mettaton - whose dodging seemed just a little more sluggish than when the two fought the Memoryheads. Mettaton drew a sharp breath as an orb nicked him on the arm, and he rejoined Frisk's side just in time for the volley to end and for the teeth to return to the creature's mouth.

As the seconds ticked by, Mettaton found it harder to quell the pulsing in his heart, but he tried his hardest for long enough to glare at the creature. "Are you quite done?"

And then - for the second time in two minutes - the creature caught him off-guard. This time, they hadn't even needed to attack him. All they did was look at him and Frisk, and ask one little question:

**"Do you think I'm pretty?"**

Mettaton's systems nearly crashed when he heard that question; in his mind's eye, the puzzle began to piece itself together. This monster's reaction when he'd called them "darling", along with the way they trembled at the sound of that specific song, and even just their physical appearance... all of it pointed in a direction that Mettaton had sincerely hoped, with all of his heart, wasn't true.

But that single five-word question... as of now, Mettaton could deny it no longer. While his fans loved to ask him questions like that, this specific monster asking him this specific question in this specific circumstance reminded him of only one person.

And that person, from what he'd last heard, had already fallen down.

_Oh, Alphys..._

With several deep breaths, sipping the air as if he actually needed to breathe, Mettaton crept up towards the creature and looked them in the eye. "Sweetheart... I think you're absolutely gorgeous. You have the potential to be a big star someday!"

**"I..."** The creature just stood there, wide-eyed. At first, they'd wanted to dismiss it on the grounds that everyone told them things like that, but this tall stranger's words... those were exactly the kinds of things _he_ would say.

Frisk stepped forward. "We're just trying to look for our friend and find a way out of here. We'll leave you alone if you want us to."

The creature's teeth shivered. They looked down, all desire to fight completely gone, and shook their head. **"Stay here with me."**

Mettaton frowned and crouched a little, trying so hard to keep his composure. "It'll be okay, darling... everything will be okay." Even as he said those words, though, he wasn't sure who needed to hear them more - the human, the creature, or himself.

**"That's what they all say..."** A quiver rushed down the creature's spine before they looked into Mettaton's eyes, almost desperate. **"You remind me of someone... but why? What's your name?"**

A deep breath. "...Mettaton."

**"Oh... never mind."** The creature stared at the floor again; that name held next-to-no meaning for them aside from overhearing Alphys mention it out of context a few times. **"I'm... Lemon Bread."**

For a little while afterward, the only sound was that pulsating flesh melody; none of the three were entirely sure of what to say.

What do you say to a stranger who feels almost unmistakably like someone you've met before, even though you know you've never seen them in your life?

What do you do when faced with an old friend who doesn't recognize you as you are now - and who themselves has drastically changed?

And what do you do if you're a neutral third party, caught in the middle of an unexpected reunion, and aware of the truth but unable to say anything about it for fear of ruining your friendship with one of the people involved?

Eventually, something finally broke the silence - but instead of it being anyone's voice, it was the sound of Lemon Bread's growling stomach.

**"I'm hungry..."** They looked at Mettaton and the child, almost reluctant to say what they were about to say. **"I have to leave."**

With a sad smile, Frisk waved at them. "Bye..."

"Take care of yourself, gorgeous." Although he smiled as he spoke, Mettaton found himself fighting back tears; hopefully, this goodbye was "for now" instead of "forever".

When Lemon Bread disappeared into the floor one last time - coupled with the melody falling silent and the lemon scent slowly fading away - the events of the past few minutes finally caught up with Mettaton, crashing into him like a meteor. He stood there, visibly shaking, a horrified look frozen on his face as he took deep breaths.

"It can't be... was that...?"

Frisk frowned as they looked up at Mettaton. Here was a man who had seemed so invincible during the premiere of his new form; even when his limbs exploded off of his body, and even when he received those emotional phone calls, he kept the show going with a smile on his face, only allowing the curtain to fall when his battery life (quite literally) gave up the ghost. And yet, even people like him weren't immune to panic attacks. Worst of all, Frisk had no idea what to say - the only things they could think of were likely to only make things worse. At the same time, though, they didn't want to just stand and watch as Mettaton tried to pull himself together.

It took a minute or two before Frisk finally made up their mind. They walked up to Mettaton and gave him a big hug...

...or at least, they tried to. Since Mettaton was so tall, they ended up just hugging his leg.

At the very least, it seemed to quell the whirring of his systems just a little; his breathing slowed and grew quieter, as well. He still seemed out of it for quite a while, though; it took several minutes before he could finally bring himself to speak.

"Darling... Alphys was only doing what the king asked of her. They just wanted to find a way to bring down the barrier without having to wait for another human... without having to kill another human. I doubt either of them meant for this to happen..." As he spoke, though, Mettaton sounded like he was just one more misfortune away from bursting into tears - and Frisk had the feeling that, by the time they left this lab, they would end up seeing that facade crumble.

And while neither of them knew it at the time, Frisk ended up being right.

A little while later, Mettaton - while not completely calm - had settled down enough to where he felt ready to press onward. The two read the monitor next to the strange animal skull device; instead of being a journal entry, this monitor simply described the device (a determination extraction machine, currently inactive). Not wanting to stay in this room for much longer, they headed through the nearest doorway...

...and the first thing to greet them? A huge, thick cloud of fog.

"Ugh..." Mettaton looked all around, trying every method he could think of to focus his vision. "I can see some fans up there, but other than that, I can't see a thing. Can you?"

Frisk squinted, also looking around. "Nope."

Mettaton chuckled a bit. "On the bright side, this would be a great room to practice dramatic entrances. In fact..."

As Frisk watched, Mettaton stepped a little further into the fog. When he was sure Frisk couldn't see him, he turned back around, slowly creeping through the fog so that Frisk could just barely see his silhouette, before leaping in front of them and landing in a dramatic pose.

"Ohhh yesss! Welcome back to _Dungeon Crawling with a Killer Robot!_ "

Frisk laughed and clapped their hands. After everything that happened with Lemon Bread, seeing Mettaton happy again filled them with determination... so much so that they ran past him.

"Let me try!"

They headed a ways into the fog before turning around and tiptoeing back through, trying not to giggle. Once they felt they were close enough, they jumped out of the fog and did their best jazz hands. "Ta-da!"

Now it was Mettaton's turn to clap. "Encore, encore!"

The two laughed together for a brief moment; they both knew that they would have to stop fooling around soon, though, since those key slots wouldn't find themselves. Frisk thought for a second; they remembered seeing another doorway in the room with the extraction device. Maybe that room would have a switch to turn on the fans?

"...Anyway. Let me see if I can find something in here." Mettaton began to step into the fog once more.

"Can I check the other room?" Frisk asked. As they watched Mettaton pause and turn back towards them, they quickly added, "Just to see if there's a switch or something? I won't go too far."

"Well..." Mettaton contemplated things. On one hand, he'd seen enough movies and TV shows to know that splitting up in situations like these rarely ended well. On the other hand, this child _was_ surprisingly strong, both physically and emotionally - and they'd only be a room or two over. "Just be careful, all right, darling? If anyone tries to fight you, make some noise, and I'll be over there faster than you can say 'don't touch that dial!'"

"Okay."

And thus, while Mettaton began to search through the fog, Frisk headed back into the other room before entering the mysterious doorway.

This new room seemed rather innocuous - a monitor on one side of the far wall, the yellow key slot on the other side, and a TV set in between the two, complete with shelves full of videotapes on either side. Frisk's first instinct, of course, was to head straight for the key slot and insert the yellow key, causing the device to light up.

(Frisk would later look back on this and laugh; it's not every day that a ten-year-old, when presented with a choice between TV and something less entertaining, willingly goes for the less-entertaining thing first.)

With that out of the way, they headed for the monitor; since none of the monitors were too high up on the walls, Frisk technically didn't need Mettaton's help to read them. Curiously enough, this entry was the long-lost entry number four. Alphys, in her efforts to research humans and their souls, had apparently found some strange videotapes in Asgore's castle; according to her, not only had he probably not watched them, but him not watching them was most likely for the best.

An unsettled feeling took root in Frisk's soul as they headed over to the TV set. Videotapes of cartoons Frisk didn't recognize filled the shelves; while most of them were properly alphabetized, a few of them just lay on the shelf in front of the others. Frisk figured they'd do Alphys a kindness and put them back for her, so they went to grab one case - only to pull their hand back when they felt something sticky.

"Ew..." they muttered. Something deep down told them they didn't want to know what was going on with _that_ tape.

Next to the VHS player itself, on the other hand, was a set of five videotapes. Unlike the colorful, detailed labels of the other tapes, all these ones had for labels were numbers scrawled on white paper with a black sharpie. Were these the tapes Alphys was talking about in that journal entry?

And if so, how bad could they be?

Knowing there was only one way to find out (and hoping that Mettaton wouldn't mind that they were watching TV without him), Frisk grabbed the first tape and slid it in the player, hoping for the best.


End file.
